


A silent promise

by LoverofMidnight



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Day 4: Impaling, FebuWhump2021, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt No Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Short One Shot, Whump, Wordcount: 500-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29239113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoverofMidnight/pseuds/LoverofMidnight
Summary: He slumped over Geralt, as the guilt ate at him, he couldn’t hear his breathing anymore. And when he pressed his ear against Geralt’s chest was their only silence. Jaskier could feel the hopelessness getting the better of him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145546
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	A silent promise

Geralt felt the impact before anything else. He tried to take a breath and work through the pain but all it managed was to make the pain worse.

He cast a glance to the side, he could see Jaskier fighting but it looked bad. He refocused on his opponent, an aard sign later and the two men have blasted away.

What is the living daylights had happened?

Before there was any time for thoughts to go through his head, his vision darkened and he sank to the ground.

Jaskier heard the thump and he hope it wasn’t Geralt, he could hear the cruel laughter squashing the last bit of hope he had.

He hacks the man down in front of him, his dagger was raised. He might not be as good as Geralt when it came to weapons, but he managed to wield a dagger with enough experience that he knows he could win this if he is careful.

The fight was bloody and by the last man fell was Jaskier covered in bruises and small cuts. All things considered, was he lucky that he was more agile than them.

Jaskier forced himself to take a breath before he walked to Geralt. He could see the sword hilt sticking up from his chest and Jaskier almost felt like screaming.

“Geralt?” Jaskier called out to his partner, but the only answer that reigned was silence. Jaskier bit the inside of his cheek.

He rushed to get the potion bag that was laying next to Roach, the horse neighed at him almost bitting his fingers.

Jaskier ignored her, just grabbing the bag. He felt a sense of relieved going over him, he was glad that he had forced Geralt to learn him the potions.

He took the swallow and dripped it down Geralt’s mouth, his knees slipped slightly in the pool of blood growing beneath him.

He gently works Geralt’s throat to get him to swallow it, but it was soon clear that there was nothing more that he could do.

The sword went through a lung and could have punctured the heart, it was high enough.

Even with the swallow. There isn’t really a way that Geralt would survive this and if he does? What then, the sword needs to come out which would only re-open the wound completely.

Jaskier could feel the panic blinding him.

If he only got here sooner, then maybe Geralt wouldn’t be dead. Maybe he would still be here, pissed off that the Alderman had set a trap, but in the end, he wouldn’t have done anything about it.

Jaskier bit the inside of his lip until he tasted the sharp tang of metal. His lip went to soothe the wound.

He slumped over Geralt, as the guilt ate at him, he couldn’t hear his breathing anymore. And when he pressed his ear against Geralt’s chest was their only silence. Jaskier could feel the hopelessness getting the better of him.

He screamed his anger up to the heavens before he broke down in sobs.

With power from somewhere he forced himself to stand upright, he pulled the blade from Geralt’s chest.

He would make sure the people who had organised this would pay, they would be killed by the blade that had killed his beloved.

The sword was wet with blood and heavy in his hand. Jaskier glared at the village. There would be nothing left of them when he was done.

A silent promise.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed this small one-shot. Please tell me what you thought of the story and constructive criticism is always welcome.  
> I can also be found on Tumblr @lover-of-midnight


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